The Tale of a Mouse
by lily moonlight
Summary: As Stella once said, there's nothing like Christmas in New York, and when she and Mac take 4 year old Holly to see Christmas at the cathedral, they find there's nothing like their daughter's sense of adventure either... A Christmas story for any time of the year!
1. Chapter 1

***Blows dust away* Whew, it's been a little while! Working 97* different jobs (*probably closer to 4) has taken its toll on my writing time. This is a Christmas story, so depending on how you look at it, it's either outrageously late, or crazily early! Regardless, I hope you enjoy it :)**

 **Dedicated to the memory of the real Lily Moonlight, my beautiful little cat, who passed away last month at the great age of 17. Missed very, very much but her name lives on.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

Her gift on Christmas Eve was a crime scene contaminated by falling snow. Stella sighed, surveyed the body in front of her and sighed again. She loved snow, really she did; just not all over her work in such quantities.

'Real Christmassy, huh?' Flack appeared, grinning despite the lung-burning cold and blinking snowflakes from his eyelashes.

'Clearly not for this guy.'

She listened as Flack briefed her and then got down to the task in front of her. Flack lingered, looking as if he was about to add something, until a shout from one of his officers drew him away, reluctantly. Stella frowned, but focused her mind on her work, eager to get as much as she could before the snow damaged her evidence even more.

It took until she was almost done before Flack reappeared

'Any more I need to know?' she asked him.

'Not much.' He peeled open his notebook and told her what he had. Nodding, Stella was about to crouch down to finish up before she noticed Flack was still hovering, grinning.

She looked up at him. 'Is there something else? Because I'd like to get this back to the lab and go home before I turn into a Popsicle.'

His grin broadened and Stella noted the glint in his oh-so-blue eyes, as he asked, 'Still got Holly's gifts to wrap, huh?'

'Some of them. Why?' she asked, narrowing her eyes at him; Flack never being one to ask an unnecessary question.

Flack shrugged. 'Nothing, was only thinking about a gift for her.' If possible, his grin got even bigger and Stella frowned in confusion.

'You already got her a gift, Don. It's in pride of place under the tree, alongside her other presents, also under the tree and beginning to take over the living room,' she added, thinking with slight anxiety about all the other gifts for Holly that were hidden in her and Mac's closet, still waiting to be wrapped. Although, given Holly's stunt yesterday, there was an argument for her not deserving quite as many presents as she'd been given…

'Guess an extra one wouldn't hurt, though?'

Suspicion of the innocence in Flack's eyes, made Stella pause before she answered.

Yanking off her latex gloves, she asked, 'What exactly did you have in mind?'

An over-exaggerated look of consideration stretched his features. 'Oh, I don't know… Maybe something… science-y. Likely she'd appreciate that kind of thing, being the daughter of two CSIs and all.' He smiled, broadly, at her.

And it clicked: Flack knew. Somehow, Stella had no idea how, he must have found out. Why else would he be goading her like this?

Not letting her features betray her, Stella cocked her head to the side and quirked her eyebrows, playing ignorant. 'Science-y? Huh. You mean like a book on kitchen chemistry, that kind of thing? It's a nice idea, but Lindsay already got her that for her birthday.' She bent down again to open her kit, but Flack persisted.

Folding his arms across his chest, he smirked. 'Nah, I was thinking more _forensic_ … something for a kid who wants to be just like her mom and dad when she grows up.'

'Uh huh.' Stella concentrated hard on making sure all her evidence was bagged and organised.

'Yeah. You know, kids' crime scene kit, fingerprint kit, something like that?' The slight question hung in the snowy air.

Carefully and deliberately slotting an envelope in place, Stella balanced on her heels and fixed him with a hard stare.

'Why would she need something like that? She's four years old.'

Despite the obvious effort, Flack could not keep his face straight. 'Never too early to start kids on a career path, know what I'm saying?'

Maintaining an expression of polite disinterest, Stella replied, 'No, I don't.'

Still smirking, he waggled his eyebrows. 'You _sure_ you don't, Stell?'

'Yes, I'm sure I don't, so if that's all you got to say, let me get on with what _I_ got to do.' Stella crouched down, hoping, probably futilely, that Flack would drop the matter.

'Oh no. No, you ain't getting away that easily.' Flack loomed over her.

Stella gave an exasperated sigh. 'Fine. You want to get Holly a kids' crime scene kit, then fine. You do that.'

'I could always toss in a few sharpies as an extra,' he mused, giving her an even more pointed look and grin.

It was a struggle, but Stella stayed neutral-faced. 'If you want to.'

She looked up at him. Flack looked down at her.

Both of them waited for the other to speak.

'That it?' he said finally, crestfallen. 'That all the reaction I'm going to get? You don't even want to know how I know?'

She did, she really did… equally she did not want to give Flack the satisfaction of being asked how he knew…

But curiosity got the better of her. She rolled her eyes. 'All right, fine. How do you know and how _much_ do you know?'

Flack puckered his lips. 'Mmm, not _much_. Only that your daughter's been showing a lot of interest in her mom and dad's job.'

Stella snapped her kit closed. 'That's one way to put it.'

'And decided she wanted to share her interest with all her lil' buddies at pre-school.' A snigger broke from him and Stella groaned.

'So who talked? If it was Danny, he's...'

'Whoa, whoa.' Flack held up his hands. 'Danny's innocent.'

' _That's_ got to be a first,' Stella said dryly.

'In this case he actually is.' Still Flack grinned, irritatingly. 'Basically, I know a guy, who knows a guy, who knows _another_ guy…'

Stella rubbed her hand across her forehead and stood up, shivering as melted snow slithered down her back. 'I get it. So if it wasn't Danny, who was it?'

Flack feigned a look of shock. 'You want me to reveal my CI?'

'Yes, I do, and quickly. If I come down with pneumonia from standing here, you'll have Mac to deal with. You know how protective he gets.'

At least that had something of an effect on him, Stella was pleased to note. Flack lifted his shoulders. 'What can I say? Word travels fast in the precinct, and the crime lab…' He rubbed some snow off his hair and paused to stare at her. 'Come on, Stell, it surely isn't that hard to figure out who it was?' The grin was back in place.

Thinking rapidly as to who might have talked, Stella drew a blank. Certainly not Mac; neither Lindsay nor Adam had not been told; as far as she knew Flack knew no one from Holly's pre-school, which only left…

Oh, but surely not…

' _Sid?!_ But I swore him to secrecy!' When the call from the pre-school had come through, she had been in the morgue; naturally Sid had overheard the conversation, and Stella, trusting him almost as much as she trusted Mac, had entrusted him with the details… which was going to be the last time she ever did _that_.

Looking thoroughly pleased with himself, Flack beamed. 'What can I say? Guy's a proud uncle.'

'What did you threaten him with?' Stella demanded and Flack feigned hurt.

'That's cold, Stell. There were no threats, simply happened to run into him when I was in the lab this morning, asked him why he was looking so cheerful, and, well, didn't take too many more questions before he told me everything. I swear, Hammerback couldn't _wait_ to tell me all about how Holly chased a kid who'd damaged one of the dolls; tackled him to the ground, all without back-up - wonder where she got that idea from, huh?' He winked at Stella, who felt a flush creeping over her skin. 'Yeah, then how she climbed up on a chair to, uh, _borrow_ some sharpies, interrogated the perp, took fingerprints,' he broke off to snigger, 'and the best bit, how you and Mac got summoned by the principal to discuss appropriate behaviour. _Man_ , wish I'd been a fly on the wall to see you two getting a lecture 'bout that.' With an exaggerated sigh, Flack flipped his notebook shut and gave a smug smile. 'Anyways, much as I'd _love_ to stay and talk, I got paperwork to do. Catch you later. Give Holly a hug from me. Merry Christmas!'

Before she could even think of a cutting riposte, Flack had strolled away, laughing to himself.

Groaning as she picked up her kit, Stella trudged back to her car.

 _Flack knew_.

Which meant it would be no time at all before the whole of the NYPD knew and would be familiar with every last detail of Holly Taylor's attempt to mete out justice to a 'bad boy' in her pre-school, right down to fingerprinting the unfortunate boy with permanent marker ink. And the interview with the principal… an unwelcome insight into how the suspects she and Mac had interviewed over the years must feel. Sighing in resignation, Stella started the car, clinging to the hope that at least she, Mac and Holly could have a quiet, drama-free Christmas Day tomorrow.

* * *

Still hazy with mixed-up dreams of being smothered by wrapping paper, tied up with tape and tangled with ribbons, Stella heard a voice. Drowsily, she blinked and forced open her eyes. Another pair of eyes, less than an inch from hers, stared right back at her.

'Mommy are you awake?' A hand reached out and attempted to stretch her eyelids wide. Stella batted it away.

'No, mommy's _not_ awake,' she muttered. 'Even daddy's not awake yet.' The heaviness of Mac's arm round her waist told her that. She had had to give in and go to bed sometime around 2am, while he had bravely stayed awake to finish the lengthy process of wrapping the last of Holly's presents. She had been vaguely aware of Holly sneaking into the bed shortly after that (a habit they were trying to break her of), and then Mac tugging some of the comforter over himself a little while later.

Holly heaved a profound sigh and wriggled even closer to Stella, so that their noses touched. Her hand patted Stella's cheek, her voice full of reproach as she complained, 'But mommy, it's _Christmas Day_.'

'Barely,' Stella mumbled, catching sight of the clock. 'And that still doesn't mean we're gonna get up at 4am. Go back to sleep, sweetie,' she added more firmly.

Holly pressed her nose (the tip adorned with a scratch of pride from her suspect-tackling) against Stella's. 'I can't sleep any more. Not for another second. Nuh uh.'

'Uh huh. Yes you can.' Stella propped herself up on her elbow and regarded her stubborn-faced daughter. 'Here's the deal - you can either go back to your own bed and sleep, or you can go back to sleep here. No one is getting up yet.'

The pout on Holly's face got bigger and her eyebrows crunched together. 'But I've been in bed for hours and hours and _hours!_ ' She sat upright and folded her arms across her chest.

Amused despite her weariness, Stella nonetheless gave her daughter a stern look. 'You've been in bed for seven hours, that's all. You had a very late night and that's nowhere near long enough for a little girl who's got a busy day ahead of her.'

'Not little, I'm _four_.' Four fingers held up emphasised this great age and Stella's lips twitched.

'Four is still little,' rumbled Mac's voice, gravelly with sleep. Stella turned her head to give him a look of exasperated relief.

'Thought you were never going to wake up,' she murmured.

'I tried my best not to,' he replied dryly.

Holly, seizing her opportunity, clambered over Stella (who yelped as a small knee caught her ribs) and plopped onto Mac's chest with a squeal.

'Daddy!'

After making a sound somewhere between a groan and a balloon being deflated, Mac managed to wheeze, 'Hey, baby girl,' and was promptly cut off by Holly wrapping her arms round his neck.

Smirking as she rolled over onto her side, Stella tickled Holly. 'Hey, no strangling daddy, 'kay? He won't be able to help you open your presents if you do.'

Holly released Mac, a bit, and he groaned again, breathing deeply while Holly spread herself on top of him. It did not take him long to recover enough to seize their daughter and lift her up above his chest while she shrieked.

Watching them – Mac pretending to roar with the effort of lifting Holly, while she screamed with excitement – Stella smiled; her cup of happiness overflowing. Right now, this moment, there was nothing more in the world she would ask for.

After lowering a breathless with laughter Holly, Mac turned his head and caught Stella's eye. Their shared smile proof of his thoughts in harmony with hers. Leaning over, Stella kissed him her lips lingering for a tender moment on his before she laid her head on his shoulder.

'I think,' she said, stroking Holly's back as she lay face-down on her father, her head tucked under his chin, arms draped either side of his chest, 'I think two, maybe three, more hours in bed then we can go see if Santa's visited you.'

'But I want to see _now_ ,' Holly whined, lifting her head and dropping it again on her bunched fists.

'Not _right_ now, baby,' Stella murmured, soothing her fingers through the little girl's tousled curls. 'But very soon, I promise.'

'Want to see Santa,' Holly insisted even as a huge yawn enveloped her.

'I know, sweetie. And if you go to sleep, you'll see him even sooner,' Stella crooned, stroking Holly's back in an even rhythm.

'Want to see the reindeer,' the small girl mumbled, her eyelids fluttering.

'Them, too,' Stella promised. After another tremendous yawn, Holly flopped and within a few minutes, was breathing deeply and evenly. Only when she was certain that Holly was sleeping did Stella, almost asleep herself by then, press a gentle kiss to her head. A little wriggle and she made herself comfortable against Mac, who carefully moved the comforter so it covered all three of them.

'Love you,' Stella whispered and he responded with the same and a kiss to her temple.

All of them together, safe and warm, Stella closed her eyes and let herself sink into sleep with a blissful smile on her face.

* * *

A blink of time later, she woke to the sound of giggles outside the room. For a few more precious seconds, she lay with her eyes closed until an aroma of pancakes enticed her to open them. She was alone in the bed. It was a few minutes after 7am – early, but more civilised than 4am. Someone had pulled the comforter over her, leaving her undisturbed and she smiled and stretched, as the bedroom door opened a sliver.

Holly's beaming face peeped round it. 'Hi, mommy!' she whispered so loudly the neighbours must have heard it.

'Hi, baby.' Stella sat up and moved the comforter aside, preparing to get out of bed.

'No! You gotta stay in bed, me and daddy said so,' Holly ordered, so with a hidden smirk, Stella did as she was told, meekly, and resisted her impulse to correct Holly's grammar.

As Mac's hand opened the door fully, it revealed that Holly carried a small tray holding a bottle of maple syrup, a napkin and cutlery. Proud and serious, she marched to the side of the bed, followed by Mac who carried a larger tray bearing what looked like a mountain of pancakes, and best of all, coffee.

Stella exclaimed in surprise, much to Holly's delight as she handed over the tray with tremendous care.

'Me and daddy made you Christmas breakfast in bed, so you gotta stay in bed to eat it,' Holly instructed, and Stella nodded gravely, and told her daughter she would not move until every crumb was eaten.

Wide awake now, and hungry, Stella settled herself against the pillows and made room for Holly to scramble up next to her. 'Wow you guys, this looks super good,'

'Pancakes and syrup, with a Christmas twist,' Mac said as he perched himself on the end of the bed after laying his tray across Stella's knees and bending down for a kiss.

'Twist?' Stella gave him a curious look.

Bouncing on her knees, Holly shouted, 'They got chocolate chips, and sprinkles, and _cinnamon!_ 'Cause it's Christmas,' she added with an extra bounce that almost upset the trays.

'It's Christmas?' Stella looked wide-eyed at her daughter, who was not fooled.

'Silly mommy,' Holly sighed. 'It's Christmas 'cause Santa's been!' With a whoop, she flung herself backwards and lay like a starfish on the bed, panting with excitement.

'Oh? He has, has he?' Stella looked up at Mac with raised, communicative eyebrows. He grinned.

'Someone found a stocking at the end of their bed, and is _very_ impatient to open it,' Mac said, looking at his daughter with a twinkling eye.

'Santa's been! Santa's been! Santa, Santa, Santa!' Holly sang, kicking her legs wildly, her parents catching the breakfast trays just in time.

'Exactly _how_ much sugar has she had?' Stella muttered in an aside to Mac, who looked sheepish. Before any more upset could happen, Stella suggested that Holly go and fetch her stocking so she could open some gifts while they ate breakfast. Holly tumbled off the bed, dashing out of the door before Stella had even finished the sentence.

After shaking her head with a smile, Stella turned her attention to Mac and pointed her fork at him. 'You should have woken me.'

Calmly, he stole the fork and helped himself to a large mouthful before answering. 'You looked too peaceful.' He grinned, adding, 'Lying there, snoring ever so gently… hey!' He rubbed his side where she had just nudged him with her elbow before he took another forkful of pancakes, remarking, 'Hmm, surprisingly good… sweet, but good… Anyway, after you caught that scene yesterday, it seemed only fair we let you sleep in. Besides, we had a lot of fun making breakfast.'

'I can see that.' Stella smirked, and reached up to wipe a drop of syrup from the corner of Mac's mouth with her finger, keeping her gaze on him as she licked the syrup off. A crooked smile broke across his lips as he speared another forkful of pancakes, this time offering it to her.

It was an explosion of sugar on her tongue. 'Wow.' Her eyebrows shot up. 'That is… possibly the sweetest breakfast I've ever had.' Stella grimaced and took a gulp of coffee to try and dilute the combination of syrup, chocolate and spices that clung to her tongue.

Mac grinned. 'I'm starting as I mean to go on. There's going to be a lot of candy around today.'

'Which is going to be strictly rationed,' Stella vowed, well aware of the sweet tooth Holly had inherited from Mac.

'Rationed?' Mac looked disappointed. 'But it's Christmas. It wouldn't be Christmas without candy.'

There was no time for Stella to retort as a Holly-shaped tornado blew into the room, clutching an armful of favourite stuffed toys, and an even more stuffed stocking. Only Mac's reflexes saved the breakfast tray as she flung herself onto the bed, toys and small parcels scattering.

'You were saying about candy?' Stella said sweetly.

* * *

 **Chapter 2 will be here soon, in the meantime, please let me know what you think :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello! Wow, October already. Where did the last 8 weeks go? Summer was a blur of making coffee, serving cream teas and directing people to castles... So sorry to have taken such a long time to update. I hope you enjoy this second chapter :) Thank you to _Ballettmaus_ and _Elviiis_ for their encouragement! **

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Breakfast passed stickily – syrup ending up everywhere, even in Holly's hair. But, following a bath, and dressed in her Christmas outfit of green and white striped tights, a red dress over a pink T-shirt, silver glitter ballet pumps, and a pair of wings strapped to her back, she looked every inch a Christmas fairy, as Mac observed.

'I think _imp_ might be a more accurate description,' Stella said. They watched Holly rocketing round the living room while they fortified themselves with more coffee.

Mac leaped forward just in time to catch a vase that the wings had caught.

'Mini earthquake might be even more accurate,' he said dryly, placing the vase out of reach.

'Agreed.'

'Mommy! Daddy!' Holly crashed into them and began trying to drag them to the Christmas tree. 'We got to open the presents!'

'We do?' Mac asked, saving the coffee mugs. 'Now?'

Holly nodded vigorously, still tugging. 'Right now!'

'Why? Are they going to disappear if we don't?' Stella couldn't help the question. Holly looked horrified and let go suddenly.

'Steady on, baby.' Stella caught the squirming little girl who had been about to throw herself into the skyscraper of presents under the ceiling-scraping tree. 'We're going to sit down and open our gifts one at a time, okay?'

So the mammoth task of unwrapping began, and for the next hour or so, Holly managed, more or less, to stick to the rule. Although, as Stella mused, sitting among a swamp of torn paper, it was not so much unwrapping as frenzied ripping…

When the paper fragments settled and only a small pile of gifts remained, to be saved until after dinner, there was a chance to take a breath and take in more caffeine. Holly sat surrounded by toys, books and a multitude of things to gladden a four year old's heart. For just a moment, Stella felt a qualm: it was not that Holly was spoiled - well, not exactly, Stella qualified her thought - but she certainly did not lack for much. Because it was sometimes very hard to say no to a child they still thought of as their own little miracle. And, as she knew Mac would admit as well, buying gifts for their daughter; for birthdays or Christmas, or just-because occasions, was a pleasure for them both.

She became aware of Mac gazing at her.

'Are you okay?'

She nodded. 'Wondering if we're going to have to consider a bigger place soon, to fit all Holly's stuff,' she said, not entirely joking.

'That had crossed my mind…' He looked at the heaps of gifts. 'Do you think we got her too much?'

Stella shrugged, uncertain. 'Maybe… she did get almost everything on her Christmas list.'

'Not all from us,' Mac pointed out.

'It was still a pretty long list.'

'But she's only a child once, and Christmas is only once a year,' Mac said and Stella bit her lip.

They looked again at Holly, content and involved in her play, and Stella felt justified in having bought the gifts. Anyway, she argued with herself, Holly was said 'no' to plenty of times.

And it was Christmas Day; the day for giving. As such, with Holly happily occupied, Stella and Mac settled down to open the presents from each other that they had set aside for a quiet moment.

'It's perfect, thank you,' Stella whispered in Mac's ear, her accompaniment a kiss. He smiled and helped her fasten the delicate silver filigree necklace with a holly leaf pendant he had bought for her. Touching the pendant with one hand, she reached round and clasped his fingers, turning her head to kiss him again. They sat, leaning against each other, Mac's arm round her hip, enjoying the uncomplicated happiness of their daughter as she played, while the lights from the Christmas tree drew a halo round her curls.

Stella met Mac's eye, the same thought occurring to them as they grinned at each other.

'The only way she's ever going to get a halo,' Mac murmured.

'I don't know, Mac; she's pretty good when she's asleep. Most of the time,' Stella said hopefully. It drew a raised eyebrow from Mac. 'All right, so maybe her angel wings will inspire good behaviour.' Ever optimistic, Stella gave Mac an expectant look; his eyebrow rose even higher. Holly herself, delving into a small wooden treasure chest, remained oblivious to the conversation.

The giver of the chest, Flack, had thoughtfully filled it with things he considered appealing and useful to the four year old: candies in various gruesome shapes; gold coins and gems made realistically of plastic; even more realistic plastic bugs; stickers; glitter; fake blood; tiny bottles of coloured shower gels, perfect for potions; and, to Stella's disgust, a large and woolly toy spider.

'Flack and I are going to have a little chat next time I see him – I banned him from giving her that for Halloween,' she grumbled to Mac. 'And why you had to christen it 'Charlotte', I don't know.'

Mac smirked. 'There's no better name for a spider.'

'Oh, I can think of plenty better names,' she muttered, but he only smirked all the more, leaving Stella shuddering as she foresaw all the places to which the spider would find its way, with Holly's assistance.

Trying to put that thought out of her mind, she wrapped her arms round her knees while Mac began to gather up some of the wrapping debris. 'Don has too much insight into the likes of a small child,' she observed, scrunching up paper. 'No wonder he and Holly get along so well,' she added, thinking of Holly's look of glee as she opened Flack's gift, and imagining that Flack had likely had a similar look as he wrapped the items.

Mac's grin was broad. 'When Don has kids of his own, you can find a way to make this bite him in the ass.'

'I intend to,' she said, letting Mac's choice of word slide as Holly was too enrapt with her gifts to overhear. 'Already planning it in fact.'

'Someone ought to warn him,' Mac said, deadpan, adding in a hurry as Stella's look scorched him. 'But that someone won't be me.'

Stella smiled, smoothly. 'Good choice.'

Even after lunch and an energetic morning, Holly showed no signs of flagging; unlike her parents. By mutual decision, Stella and Mac decided their traditional Christmas walk was due, which would also be a chance for Holly to play in the snow that had been tumbling since last night. Holly was enthusiastic, so they bundled her into her scarf, hat, boots, coat, and wings.

'If anyone asks, we had _nothing_ to do with her choice of clothes,' Stella murmured to Mac as she frowned at the clothing combination.

'If anyone asks, we tell them our daughter has her own style and to mind their own business,' he retorted and she stared before her face relaxed into a grin.

'You got it.'

Catching Holly up and kissing the top of her head, Stella suggested, 'So what do you say we go over to midtown and St Patrick's this year? We could go see the Nativity.'

The idea met with approval from both Mac and Holly, so after putting their own coats on and gathering up their essentials, they left the house. And returned immediately for Holly's forgotten 'kit' - a metal lunchbox which was her version of her parents' kits - filled with candy and other necessities.

Had Stella's parental instinct not kicked in as they left the front door for the second time, and caused her to grab Holly, the little girl would have hurled herself down the steps and onto the snowy street.

'Woo! Snow, _snow!_ ' she shrieked jumping up and down as if her short legs were on springs.

Stella grinned at Mac.

'Remember being this enthusiastic about snow?'

'Who says I'm not now?' he demanded and swept Holly into his arms, swooping her over the piled up snow, accompanying her flight with aeroplane sounds, to her huge delight.

Stella giggled, enjoying the spectacle of her dignified husband, usually every inch the head of the New York Crime Lab, having as much - and possibly even more - fun in the snow as his four year old daughter. When they turned to making snowballs, she had to join in herself, teaming up with Holly after yelling 'girls against guys!'

Screeching, laughing, darting about, dodging other pedestrians, the battle commenced. Outnumbered, Mac was soon outgunned, and then demanded Holly be his partner in the next round. By the time they came in sight of the subway station, all three were hot, tired and glistening with pearls of melting snow in their hair and on their clothes.

The ride on the subway gave them a chance to catch their breath, in between preventing Holly from running up and down the carriage. But once off the subway, the sight of more snow along 5th Avenue was too hard to resist and the snow fight, and flights, began again, although with consideration for the crowds of people.

'I got to sit down,' Mac muttered to Stella as, spattered with snow, they reached the steps to the vast cathedral doors.

'I hear you,' she said with feeling. Untroubled, Holly skipped and jumped, swinging her kit, trying to demand more flights from Mac. Mac refused; Holly wheedled; Mac refused even more firmly.

Entering the building, their attempts to hush Holly were not a success, leading to a new appreciation of the building's acoustics. But even Holly was muted as the glorious Christmas decorations came into view. Clutching her parents' hands, she gazed round in open-mouthed awe, almost stumbling, entranced with the wondrous things around her.

Although she had seen it herself many times, the beauty of the interior, especially at this time of year, always caught Stella's breath. They all walked slowly, gazing up and round at the soaring roof buttresses, imposing columns and the stained glass – alive and dazzling with the winter sun tumbling through them.

Slipping her hand into Mac's, Stella sighed in deep contentment. 'There really is nothing like Christmas in New York.'

Mac smiled and pressed her fingers. 'There really isn't.'

And one of the highlights of Christmas in New York was St Patrick's large-scale Nativity scene. They had last visited on Holly's first Christmas, when she was only six months old, and Stella felt a tingle of anticipation at what her daughter's reaction would be to seeing it now. A glance at Mac showed that he was just as eager.

'Is it as big as me?' Holly asked with wide eyes after Mac explained that the Nativity was a bit like the one at grandma's house, only much bigger.

Mac squinted, pretending to judge her height. 'Hmm, maybe even bigger than you…'

'Oooh!' Holly looked thrilled and stared about her even more excitedly, trying to catch a glimpse of the Christmas crèche through the milling crowd. They wove their way through, slipping along the pews, and reached the gathering round the crèche.

Gradually, they moved closer as people moved on and Mac relented to Holly's complaints that she couldn't see and swung her up onto his shoulders.

Another 'Ooh!' broke from the little girl and she clasped her hands in front of her, almost braining Mac with her kit, until Stella plucked it from her. As soon as they were near enough, Mac set her down and both holding her hands, they stepped forward.

Holly's mouth formed an 'O' of wonder as she crept forward as close as she could and stared at the figures.

'Mommy! _Look!_ There's a baby, and animals, and a _dog!_ ' Squiggling with delight, she gripped the low barrier and leaned forward, straining to see everything, including the famous Lexington the dog among the animals. A barrage of questions followed, and Stella and Mac did the best they could to answer, feeling relief when the cathedral's Monseigneur greeted them, and thoughtfully and seriously answered all Holly's questions.

'My pleasure,' he said in response to Stella's heartfelt thanks. 'One more thing,' he added, addressing Holly again as he crouched down beside her. 'If you look carefully, under the baby's manger, you might see the smallest creature of all in our Nativity. Can you see?'

Along with Mac, Stella found herself looking as hard as their daughter, spotting the tiny animal just as Holly squealed, 'A mouse! Mommy, daddy, look! Baby Jesus got a mouse!'

Tucked under the plaster manger, out of sight of the other figures, was a perfectly carved mouse, its nose peeping out, visible to only the most observant.

Holly stood, transfixed: staring with enchanted eyes at the tiny creature, everything else forgotten. The Monseigneur bid them a smiling goodbye, but Holly's attention remained captured. Aware of the press of people behind them, Stella and Mac persuaded Holly to come away, only after promising that they could see the mouse again before they left.

As they moved on, Holly turned to her parents, an appeal in her big blue eyes.

'Mommy…'

Being familiar with that tone, Stella was instantly on alert.

'Yes, sweetie?'

'I really, _really_ like the mouse, mommy.' Holly gazed at both her parents with huge eyes. 'He's super cute.'

'He sure is,' Stella agreed, waiting for what was coming next.

Clutching her kit, Holly twisted from side to side.

'Mommy, do you think he'd like to live with us?'

Stella glanced at Mac before answering Holly gently. 'No, sweetie, I don't think he would. He lives here.'

'But mommy, he could live with me, in my kit and come to pre-school and sleep in my bed.' This was said with an expression that suggested how simple and obvious this was.

Stella shook her head. 'No, honey. He can't do that.'

'But why, mommy? I like him and I want him,' Holly said, as if that was the end of it. Another glance at Mac showed Stella that he was having the same thoughts as she was about saying 'no' to Holly more often. What had they been saying earlier about things coming back to bite them in the ass?

'Honey, you can't have…,' Mac began.

'Hey, Taylors!' a bombastic voice boomed from across the nave before Mac could finish. Several people in the vicinity jumped. The figure in the distance waved and ploughed towards them.

'Is that?'

'Yes, it is,' Mac replied, giving an answering wave.

Stella gave him a wry look. 'If we stop and talk, are you prepared for the fact we might be here until matins tomorrow?'

As people parted to let the striding figure through, Mac turned to Stella with a grin. 'I don't think we have a choice now.'

'I guess it could be worse, imagine if we'd run into Sinclair,' Stella said in a low voice after Mac sent a pointed glance towards Holly – they had learned the hard way that Holly's ears missed very little, and that she had equally little discretion.

The indiscreet one tugged at Stella's sleeve. 'Mommy, can we go see the mouse again?'

'Soon, sweetie,' Stella said smiling down at her. 'Daddy and I are going to talk for a couple minutes to a friend, then we can visit the mouse again.'

Holly sighed just as the hail of, 'Detective Taylor and Detective Taylor! Two for the price of one!' announced the arrival of all 6 foot 2 inches (height and almost girth) of Larry Prince, the Mayor's chief of staff.

'Well, this _is_ a real nice surprise. A merry Christmas to ya, Taylors.' Beaming, Larry held out a meaty hand.

'Larry,' Mac acknowledged, shaking the proffered hand. 'Merry Christmas to you, too.'

Stella followed suit. Holly simply stared at Larry, even as he crouched down as much as his bulky figure would allow and held out his hand to her. 'And you must be the celebrated _Miss_ Taylor. I've heard a lot about you.' He grinned at Stella and Mac, who smiled back weakly.

'Who are _you?_ ' Holly folded her arms in front of her. Stella smothered a giggle as she explained to her daughter who the man was and that it was okay to shake his hand.

'Pleased to meet you, I'm Holly,' she reeled off, giving Larry's hand a vigorous shake.

'Pleasure to meet you, too, Holly. And how old are you, sugar?'

'I'm four.' Again, Holly held up her fingers, so there could be no mistake about her age. 'How old are you?'

Mac cleared his throat loudly while Stella, mortified, did her best to tell Holly that it was not polite to ask that of a grown-up.

Fortunately, Larry was tickled by it and beamed down at Holly. 'Well, sugar, I'm 56, which is a whole lot of years older than you.'

Holly's eyes were big. 'That's even more older than my daddy, and he's lots and _lots_ of years old.'

Stella had to bite the inside of her lip while avoiding Mac's eyes.

'Oh, she's a keeper,' Larry chuckled after a bellowing laugh to which Mac mumbled something, wincing. 'Now listen, I'm real glad I saw you two,' Larry continued heaving himself upright and rubbing his hands together. 'Not that it isn't always a pleasure to see you, of course, but I got some information you might be interested in, too. Now, while I appreciate it's the holidays and you got your little angel with you, I got to tell you a bit about it. Won't hold you up for long…'

Which was a claim Stella did not believe, in the same way that Larry Prince did not believe in short conversations.

As Larry talked, Holly plucked her kit from Stella's hand and unlatched it, bringing out Bear. After a few minutes of making Bear dance, Holly plopped onto the ground by Stella's feet and continued to entertain herself. Allowing it, even though she usually would not due to the cold floor and knowing better than most what might have been walked onto that floor, Stella let her stay.

'Only a couple minutes and then we'll go do some more exploring,' she told Holly, who nodded, apparently very busy dressing Bear in his superhero outfit.

A moment later, Holly tugged on Stella's coat, continued to do so every couple of minutes to show her something and then seemed content to play by herself. Stella mentally promised her daughter a treat when they got home and turned her attention back to the conversation.

After a while, with Larry and Mac expounding on the subject of the Mayor's New Year fundraising ball at Gracie Mansion, both involved in and enjoying the conversation, Stella decided to excuse herself and take Holly back to the mouse again. Their daughter had been very good for a while and Stella did not want to push their luck. Now she thought about it, Holly was being almost _too_ good and quiet…

Suddenly suspicious, Stella glanced down.

And found Holly no longer there.

* * *

 **Uh oh...**

 **Sorry, couldn't help myself ;) Let me know what you think! Reviews loved and welcomed :D Lily x**


	3. Chapter 3

**In my defence at taking so long to update, at least it's now a Christmas story being published at Christmas :P**

 **Chapter 3**

Everything else flew from Stella's mind as she saw the empty space where her daughter had been only minutes before - no _moments_ before, only moments.

'Holly!' Stella cried, looking round her wildly. There was no sign of her. Nothing. 'Mac, she's gone. Holly's gone.' She clutched Mac's arm, frantic. Larry's voice had ceased. 'She was right here, right by me, I swear, a moment ago…'

'Holly?' Mac stared round, tense and alarmed. 'Holly!'

'She can't have gone far, she can't…' On tip-toes, trying desperately to see over people, bobbing down to peer through their legs, Stella called her daughter's name again and again, Mac's voice echoing alongside hers. They heard Larry tell them he'd go look by the Christmas tree, but neither of them spared an acknowledgement.

'She can't have gone far. She'll be somewhere close by.' Mac squeezed her shoulders, trying to sound reassuring; failing as his face showed the same alarm as Stella's did.

'What if she's not? What if she's run outside, gotten down the steps, run out into the street? She's so small, Mac, drivers wouldn't see her.' Her voice rising, Stella felt her breath coming in gasps as her chest felt tighter and tighter as if someone was drawing strings cruelly round her. She attempted to calculate exactly how long it had been that she had taken her attention away from Holly; how far Holly could have gone in that time. Even as she tried, everything swirled into a blur in her head. The only clear thought being Holly's absence.

' _Holly!_ Holly, where are you?'

Pushing through anyone in her way, Stella hunted for her lost child. She and Mac stopped only to give brief descriptions of Holly. Someone _had_ to have seen her… So beautiful earlier, the cathedral now seemed vast, cavernous, threatening. Far too full of places that a little girl could be lost in, vanished in. Far too full of people, any one of whom, Stella knew, had the potential to have snatched Holly.

Again and again, Stella called. Wading through people, searching under the rows of pews. In the other direction, she heard Mac calling. Both their voices rang round the cathedral's stone innards, receiving no answering call from Holly.

Tears and breathlessness threatened to choke her as Stella turned in every direction, hearing other voices now joining in the calls for Holly. Until finally, someone hollered that there was a child on her own by the Nativity scene.

Almost stumbling in her haste, Stella ran towards the Nativity scene, pushing her way through to the front just as Mac caught her up.

'Oh, thank _God_ ,' burst from her as, sure enough, there stood a little figure clutching a metal box standing by the barrier, gazing at the scene.

'My baby! Oh thank God. Holly, sweetie, are you okay?' Stella reached Holly first, snatching her up, hugging her and checking her over. 'Baby girl, I was so _worried_ …'

'Mommy, you're squashing me,' a plaintive, muffled voice said as Holly squirmed against her.

It took a few moments before Stella could bear to release her and balance her on her hip. When she did, she gazed into the reproachful face of her daughter, who looked none the worse for her absence.

'Mommy, I was looking at the animals and baby Jesus,' Holly said, her blue eyes full of blamelessness.

'But baby, you didn't tell us.' Stella smoothed a rebellious curl from Holly's face. 'We didn't know where you were.'

'And when we don't know where you are, we get worried. You know you must never, _ever_ go anywhere by yourself without telling us,' Mac spoke gently, but with a serious tone that caused Holly's eyelids to droop.

'But you were talking to the man and I asked and you didn't listen.'

Stella glanced at Mac, neither of them believing her, especially given Holly's sleeve-tugging habit.

'Then it must have been a teeny tiny mouse voice that you asked with 'cause neither daddy nor I heard it.'

'Mice don't talk, mommy, they squeak, like this.' Holly demonstrated her best mouse squeak, and Stella gave her a sceptical look, reminded suddenly of diversion tactics used by perps.

'Even if you _did_ ask, you didn't get our permission to go, so you should have stayed right where you were,' Mac said. 'This is a big place with lots of people and you could have gotten into danger.'

With downcast eyes, Holly struggled to get out of Stella's arms, so Stella set her on the floor, reluctantly; keeping tight hold of one hand.

'Let's go home,' she said to Mac, tired, shaken and wanting nothing more than to be safely back in their house.

Mac agreed emphatically and reached for Holly's other hand, the one which held her kit.

'No!' Holly snatched her hand away, clutching the kit to her.

Mac raised a stern eyebrow. 'Young lady, whether you like it or not, we are going to hold both your hands until we get home. I will carry your kit.'

Still Holly clutched the kit, shaking her head and sticking a stubborn bottom lip out. Communicating with Mac via a brief glance, Stella crouched down next to their daughter.

'You got two choices, OK?' Holly scowled down at her boots. 'You either let daddy hold your hand and your kit, and we go home and play some more, _or_ you don't let daddy hold your hand and you don't open any more presents until tomorrow. What are you going to choose?'

The pout on Holly's face grew fiercer; the fine black eyebrows crashed together even more, until eventually, there came a mumbled, reluctant, 'Daddy can hold it.'

'Good choice.' Stella exchanged a relieved look with Mac, before they positioned themselves either side of Holly, grasped her hands and, after Larry had found them and been reassured of Holly's safety, they made a hasty exit from the cathedral.

Even by the time they reached home, Stella still felt shaky and Mac looked ruffled. On the way back, Holly had stomped along, saying very little and keeping a close eye on her precious kit.

Once inside, they sat Holly down and talked to her seriously about going off by herself. Chastened, she opened the few more of her presents she was permitted to and then took herself off to her room.

Assured their daughter was safe, within earshot and occupied, Mac suggested his special-recipe hot chocolate, to which Stella agreed whole-heartedly.

With their brimming mugs on the coffee table in front of them, they sank into the couch. Stella took a deep sniff of the wonderfully spiced chocolate and felt it already soothing her. A couple of sips later, she felt the last of the terror from earlier vanquished.

'Next time we leave the house, we ought to consider cuffing Holly to our wrists,' Mac said, taking a sip of chocolate.

'Sounds reasonable.' Shaking her head, Stella gripped her mug, lips pressed together. 'God, Mac, I never, _ever_ want to experience that again. That moment when I realised I couldn't see her…' She shuddered.

'Neither do I,' Mac said with feeling. 'It's got to have aged me ten years at least.'

'And me.' Only half-joking, Stella stretched round some locks of hair to examine them. 'I'm pretty sure there are more grey hairs than there were this morning.'

Serious-faced, Mac lifted a handful of her curls himself and studied them. 'Yes, looks like at least ten more, maybe twenty.'

All she did in response was look pointedly at the dusting of silver in the hair at his temples. Mac grinned, tugged gently at a stray ringlet. 'Now I'm going to risk sounding corny and say that I don't care if your hair is grey, brown or even blue. As long as I've got you and Holly with me, that's all I care about.'

Stella clasped his hand. 'There's no danger of that changing… as long as we stay away from Nativity scenes in the future.'

Lifting his mug, Mac remarked, 'I'll drink to that.'

Drinks finished, Stella swung her legs over Mac's and laid her head on his shoulder, releasing a sigh.

'Quite the day,' Mac murmured, stroking her hair. 'Who knew a cathedral would be so full of fascinating and tempting things to a four year old?'

'We should have expected it, given that she _is_ our daughter,' Stella said, gazing up at him.

'I don't think either of us ever had as much mischief in us as she has,' Mac mused, adding, 'Speaking for myself, anyway.'

Stella met his smug grin with an undiluted stare. 'Really? Huh. I guess your mom and I are going to have some interesting conversations next time we talk.'

Mac only chuckled.

After getting up to check on Holly again, who she found playing with various dolls and figures, her kit beside her, Stella returned to the living room. Even though Holly's unusually quiet play aroused mistrust, nothing illicit seemed to be happening. Maybe even Holly's ebullience had been squashed.

With the TV on quietly in the background, the hot, sweet drink and the warmth in their apartment made Stella and Mac drowsy. Gazing at the Christmas tree as she lay back in Mac's arms, Stella saw the lights begin to blur and seem to melt together. At the top, her two precious Christmas dolls – the fairy and the soldier – smiled benignly at her; smiled mischievously, if she let herself imagine that…

Then she caught sight of the time and gave an exclamation at how late it was.

'Holly should be in bed,' Stella scrambled off the couch. 'I'll go see to her; you tidy up here,' she told Mac already on her way to Holly's room.

At the bedroom door, Stella stopped and smiled at the sight of Holly asleep on top of her bed, still fully dressed. After the events of the day, it was no wonder tiredness had caught up with her.

Still smiling, Stella moved over to the bed and gazed down at her sleeping daughter, clutching something to her chest. Bear, no doubt. Her kit was cast to the floor, its lid open; empty. Stella frowned at that. Frowned even more when she saw the faithful Bear down at the bottom of the bed. She looked a little more closely at what Holly was clutching in her sleep, and gasped in shock.

'Oh _no_ …'

Stella poked her head round the bedroom door. 'Mac, you _need_ to come see this.'

'See what? Is something wrong?' He joined her.

'You could say that.' Stella pulled him over to the bed and pointed.

He looked, looked again; turned to her. 'Is that…?'

'Yes. Yes it is.' Arms folded she stared at Mac, the implications only just beginning to crowd in on her. 'Our daughter is tucked up in bed with the mouse from St Patrick's Nativity scene.'

Mac blinked. 'Are you certain? It's not a gift we overlooked?'

Stella gave him a look of pitying disbelief. 'Believe me, honey, I looked at that mouse for long enough this afternoon to recognise it.' Running her hand through her hair, Stella pressed her lips together. 'No _wonder_ she was so eager to get back there. First chance she got, soon as we weren't paying attention, she took it.'

'No wonder she was so insistent she carried her kit herself,' Mac added and Stella nodded.

'She had the mouse hidden in there.'

'We should have suspected something.'

Stella glanced at Mac. 'It's hardly what you suspect your 4 year old daughter of doing.'

They stared down at their miniature mouse-napper, asleep with the incriminating evidence.

'Caught red-handed,' Stella murmured as she gazed at Holly's cherubic sleeping face and wondered again how a child with such an angelic visage could be so badly-behaved. Mac grunted and drew her out of the room.

'So what do we do?' he asked.

Again, Stella folded her arms across her chest. 'Well we certainly can't wake her up now, not at this time of night. Only thing we can do is tuck her into bed and wait until morning.'

'By which time there could be a BOLO out on the mouse, or a Missing Rodent report,' Mac said, deadpan.

'Mac, quit joking around, this is serious,' Stella hissed. 'Our daughter has _stolen_. And as if stealing from a cathedral wasn't bad enough, she stole from the _Nativity scene_. It doesn't get much worse than that.'

Lips pinched together in an effort to be grave-faced, Mac looked at her. 'I'm not saying it isn't serious, but you got to admit, you got up to your own share of mischief, not only when you were a four year old.'

Stella glared. 'Maybe I did, but I was not the daughter of the NYPD crime lab bosses, and I never stole anything from a cathedral,' she retorted, already picturing the lurid headlines, and the disapproval from Sinclair, as well as the Mayor's Office, St Patrick's cathedral, their co-workers, the population of Manhattan…

'Stella, it is not going to make the papers,' Mac said.

Stella sighed. 'Don't bet on it.'

Hand on her shoulder, he gave her a reassuring smile. 'First thing tomorrow, we go back to St Pat's, make our apologies, maybe make a donation, then we figure out a suitable way of dealing with our, uh, little larcenist.'

Exasperated with him not taking their daughter's… theft, yes theft; there was no other word for it… seriously enough, Stella swept past him back into Holly's room.

A short while later, sitting up in bed, she frowned over the top of the book she was not really reading as a still too relaxed-looking Mac got into bed next to her.

'I don't know how you're so calm about this,' she told him as he propped himself up on his elbow next to her, one hand resting on her thigh.

'Because there's nothing more we can do until tomorrow,' he said, his fingers tracing over her skin.

'But we've still got to figure out how we're going to deal with it tomorrow,' Stella argued, trying to ignore that he had sat up and his hands were now brushing her hair away from her neck, exposing the sensitive skin there…

'We can do that tomorrow as well,' he murmured.

'Maybe, but…' She wanted to argue more, but the way his fingers were caressing her skin was awfully distracting.

'It'll be okay,' he assured her, plucking her book out of her hands and kissing her. 'Trust me.'

'Okay,' she mumbled as his fingers slipped down her collar bone. 'If you're sure…'

Moments later, the mouse was temporarily forgotten along with the book that fell to the floor unnoticed.

* * *

 **Happy Christmas to you all! I'd be tremendously happy if you'd gift me a review :D Lily x**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello! Welcome to the final chapter of the story! Thank you to everyone who has read, favourited and followed the story :) I hope you enjoy this last chapter.**

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

Stella woke, still tangled with Mac, to the sound of sobs. Dazed with sleep, she untangled herself to hit the light switch by the bed. Through sheer luck she succeeded and blinked in the brightness, seeing a small figure in the doorway, crying pitifully.

'Sweetie, what's wrong?' After dragging the sheet up to cover herself, she held out her arms to Holly, who stumbled over and threw herself onto the bed. Beside her, Mac shifted and woke. 'What's happened, baby?' Stella asked again.

'I had a b-bad dream,' Holly whimpered. 'A m-mouse was-was chasing me, mommy, and it was big and-and wanted to eat me…' She buried her face in the comforter and sobbed.

Stella glanced at Mac, the same thought occurring to both of them – someone had a guilty conscience. Quickly, Mac grabbed his pyjama pants, pulled them on and threw Stella her tank top and shorts.

'Give daddy a hug and tell him all about it,' Stella said as she lifted Holly across to Mac, before she dragged her shorts and top on. When both she and Mac were decently covered, they settled Holly between them and helped dry her eyes and nose. The tears soon diminished to sniffles and hiccups, and with another glance at Mac, Stella decided it was time for some questioning.

'So you had a bad dream huh, baby?' She smoothed the bewildered curls.

'Y-yes,' Holly gulped, wiped her nose and looked up at Stella through tear-trimmed eyelashes. 'The mouse was pretty and small and brown, but then it wanted to eat me and it got super big and chased me…'

'A pretty brown mouse, hey?' Mac said, looking hard at Holly who dropped her eyes. 'It sounds like the mouse we saw today at the cathedral.' There was no reply forthcoming, but the brief look Holly gave her father, before dropping her gaze again, was unmistakeably guilty. 'That's quite the coincidence, isn't it?' Mac added and looked at Stella.

The two of them fixed their daughter with their parental version of the look they gave suspects; the 'we know what you've done so you may as well confess' look. As used to it as she was, Holly was not impervious. She wriggled nervously.

'Is there anything you want to tell us about, baby?' Stella asked her meaningfully. In a moment, Holly crumbled. And crumb by crumb, the confession was given.

It left both Stella and Mac nonplussed.

Looking incredulous, Mac asked, 'Let me get this straight… you left us without telling us where you were going, snuck through the barrier, took the mouse, put it in your kit and snuck back again?'

'Yes, daddy,' Holly mumbled, head drooping. 'But-but the mouse said it was okay.'

Stella's eyebrows shot up. 'Oh, it did, did it?'

Holly moved her head up and down.

'Yes, 'cause he said he wanted to come home with me to live here, 'cause _I_ wanted him to.' Those beseeching blue eyes, so often the reason Holly got what she wanted, gazed at her parents. Parents who were now feeling pangs of guilt. Stella glanced at Mac, and the two of them looked back at Holly in consternation.

Further questions revealed that Holly had, somehow, managed to slip over and under the barriers while no one was looking (Stella winced at that - _how_ had no one seen her?) using some unusual skills.

'I got a bit stucked, but I did a wiggle like a cat-y-pillar, like Uncle Flack taught me, and then I wasn't stucked anymore, and then you came and found me,' Holly told them, and another eloquent glance passed between Stella and Mac – they would be speaking to Uncle Flack about that.

'Wow,' Stella said weakly.

'Are you mad at me?' Holly asked in a small voice.

Stella sighed. 'No, sweetie, we're not mad at you. We're just… sad and disappointed that you didn't tell us what you'd done.'

'I think you know, don't you, honey, that taking the mouse wasn't the right thing to do?' Mac asked gently and Holly's lips wobbled.

'But-but he's pretty and I love him… can't I keep him, mommy?'

Stella shook her head, answering firmly. 'No baby you can't. He has to go back. I know you love him, but sometimes you can't have what you want, even if you want it really bad. And,' she continued in a soft voice, glancing at a grave-faced, Mac, 'even we can't give you everything you want. Sometimes it's just not possible.'

Still clinging limpet-like to her, Holly looked up at Stella with sad eyes. 'He really, really can't stay with me?'

'No, honey. Do you know why?'

Holly thought for a moment. ''Cause daddy doesn't like mice?'

A strange sound came from Mac which turned quickly into a cough. 'That… is not the reason,' he said, clearing his throat.

After shooting him a look, Stella continued. 'You can't keep the mouse because he belongs to someone else.'

'To baby Jesus?'

'Yes… to him, but you know what, he also belongs to the cathedral and to Monseigneur Michael. See, he's a very special mouse and there are a lot of people who like him almost as much as you do.' Stella smoothed Holly's curls and gave them a quick kiss. 'You can't keep him here because if you did that, no one else would be able to visit him at Christmas, and that would be very sad.'

A profound sigh came from Holly as she mulled over what Stella had said. Finally, she dropped her chin into her hands and sighed again.

'Do we got to take him back to his house?'

'Absolutely.' Stella nodded.

It was Holly's turn to nod, her chin bumping on her clasped hands. 'Okay.' She sighed and made a move to extricate herself from Stella's hold and the comforter.

'Hey, where are you going?' Mac asked and Holly turned wide eyes to him.

'To go get the mouse, to take him back.'

'Not right now, sweetie,' Stella said, tugging gently at Holly's pyjama top. 'In the morning, after we've had some more sleep.'

Holly agreed and, worn out with tears and confessions, she was soon asleep between her parents, who found themselves wide awake.

Staring at the ceiling, a thought struck Stella.

'You know something,' she said in a low voice, 'all these parenting manuals, magazines, websites, whatever; they've got it all wrong.'

Even in the dim light, she could see Mac frown. 'They have?'

'Yeah.' Shifting onto her side, Stella expanded on her theory. 'All the usual stuff, you know, changing diapers, breastfeeding, potty training… pfft, easy.' She flicked her hand dismissing those minor trials of child-rearing.

'Right.' Mac was sceptical. Stella pushed her point.

'What _we_ need are manuals that deal with the really difficult stuff – like how to stop your two year old from climbing the Christmas tree; what to do when your child gets herself stuck in her Barbie Dream House…'

'How to repair a teddy bear that's been autopsied with scissors.' Mac caught on and Stella nodded.

'You got it. Now if we had advice on those matters, plus how to proceed when your four year old daughter has stolen a mouse from a famous religious institution, parenting would be a lot easier.'

Mac grunted. 'We should write our own manual.'

Stella giggled, suddenly seeing the funny side. 'It'd be a New York Times bestseller. We could have a whole new career… ' She sighed, her head dropping onto the pillow. 'But after we get some more sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day.'

Mac grunted again before silence settled over the room and Stella's thoughts roamed away into sleep at last.

It still didn't feel like nearly enough rest when she woke again, this time to find herself being tugged by the ankle from under the covers.

'Mommy, wake up!' came the far too enthusiastic demand, just as a shadowy-eyed Mac came into sight, a very welcome sight as he carried two steaming mugs – coffee, judging by the aroma.

'Your mom is not a sack of potatoes,' he told Holly after ordering her to stop pulling at Stella.

Holly gave him a withering look. 'I know that, daddy. I was helping mommy get up.'

'I don't think mommy appreciates the help.' Mac gave Stella a sly grin.

'She certainly does not,' Stella responded in a highly dignified manner as she accepted the coffee and sipped it with a sigh.

Mug hugged in her hands, Stella leaned back against the pillows and closed her eyes, only half-listening as Mac ordered Holly to go and pack the mouse up in her kit, ready for its journey back to the cathedral.

'I called Monseigneur Michael already,' Mac said once Holly was out of earshot. Stella cracked open her eyes, her attention caught.

'And?' she asked apprehensively.

'He's not going to call the papers.' Mac grinned. 'He was pretty understanding and said he was looking forward to seeing us and hearing the full story.'

It was a relief to Stella and she smiled her thanks at her husband before draining the last of her coffee and swinging her legs out of the bed. She turned to Mac with a wry grin.

'At least we can console ourselves with the thought that we've likely given him one of his more interesting confessions.'

Mac set his mug down. 'Let's hope it's the last one _we_ have to make and from now on, Holly's behaviour will be as angelic as she appears…'

They stared at each other, sharing the thought: some things were beyond even a miracle.

In the end, the experience of taking Holly to confess her sins was not as bad as Stella had feared – a fear that had expanded during the journey back to the cathedral. Even so, facing Msgr. Michael, a hand each on Holly's shoulder, Stella felt as guilty as if she and Mac had taken the mouse themselves.

Far more self-possessed than her parents, holding the mouse she had carefully wrapped in Christmas paper, Holly explained while gentle Msgr. Michael listened, nodding every so often and asking an occasional question. As Holly told him how she had wanted the mouse, the Msgr. looked up at Stella and Mac.

It blurted out of Stella. 'Holly was - is - a… a _very_ wanted child.' With the barest of details, she told him about what had happened the Christmas before Holly's birth.

Understanding was warm in Msgr. Michael's eyes. 'You don't need to explain any more. You have a daughter obviously very confident and secure in your love for her, which is a joy to see.'

Stella felt Mac's hand gripping hers as they both thanked the Msgr. Then, with the well-travelled mouse unwrapped and safe in one hand, he offered his other hand to Holly.

'If it's okay with mom and dad, perhaps you'd like to help me put him back?'

After a glance at Stella and Mac, who readily gave their permission, Holly took the Msgr's hand and clambered up onto the Nativity platform among the straw and the figures. Backing up what they had explained to Holly earlier, Msgr. Michael explained how lots of visitors, and lots of children like her, came to see the mouse; he added that the mouse himself did an important job looking after the baby Jesus. Holly listened, rapt, before she nestled the mouse back into his place, while Stella, still holding Mac's hand, watched their daughter learning a lesson in life, taught with kindness and generosity.

With the mouse reinstated, Holly bounced back to her parents and hugged them, her face turned up to them, bright with excitement.

'Mommy! Daddy! Mr Michael says I can come help pack the mouse away in his special box when it's time for him to sleep. Can I? Please, please, _please?_ ' Little hands pressed together, she implored, and once again, neither Mac nor Stella could resist. Holly danced around, loud and exuberant with joy; Stella sent a glance at Mac. He dipped his chin in agreement. Time to leave before Holly bubbled over with exhilaration.

Out on 5th Avenue, treading carefully through the starting to become slushy snow, Mac breathed a sigh of relief and gave Stella a rueful smile. 'Let's hope that's the last time we have to do anything like that.'

Stella nodded grimly, a thought striking her. 'And no one, including Flack and Sid, must _ever_ hear about this. _Especially_ not Flack. God only knows what he'd do with the information that the heads of the crime lab's own daughter committed theft in front of their very eyes.'

'After telling Danny, he'd likely buy Holly her own real live mouse complete with miniature nativity and crime scene kit.' Mac grinned and Stella glared.

'That is not even funny, Mac.'

* * *

By the end of the following week, having remained vigilant every day at work, Stella felt able to let her guard down. She, Mac and Flack had caught several scenes together since the mouse incident, but each time she had kept a close eye on the two men and was confident Flack had heard nothing of the mouse-napping in the cathedral. Not that she did not trust Mac - far from it – but there was always the possibility that something could slip accidentally.

Flack was her chief concern, but no one else seemed to know about Holly's latest misdemeanour either: no secret smiles; no hastily-ended conversations as she passed co-workers in the lab; no curious stares... Stella was optimistic that no one ever _would_ know. With a lightness in her step, she left the lab.

Mac and Holly, and dinner, were waiting for her when she got home; Holly wearing a Batgirl costume, one of her many Christmas gifts. Having spent the day with her Uncle Flack, she was bursting with things to tell her parents. They listened, in between reminders for Holly to eat dinner. By dessert, she had calmed down enough to dive into her fruit and ice-cream, giving Stella and Mac the chance to talk to each other about their day.

'Mommy, guess what Uncle Flack's gonna buy me!' Holly said suddenly, spoon half-way to her ice-cream smeared mouth, interrupting her parents' quiet conversation.

'A unicorn?' Stella offered, keeping her face serious.

'Nuh uh.' Holly shook her head.

'A dinosaur?' Mac guessed.

Again Holly shook her head. 'Nope, 'cause that'd be way too big to fit in my room.'

'Good point.' Mac nodded.

A few more guesses – a pony, a purple car, a snowman – and they were both out of inspiration.

'Okay, we give up.' Stella lifted her hands as Holly stared expectantly at them. 'You're going to have to tell us what Uncle Flack's going to get you.' A crime scene kit, she suspected, recalling their conversation on Christmas Eve.

Holly sucked the last drop of ice-cream off her spoon. 'A mouse!'

Stella froze. 'A what?'

'A real mouse for a pet, mommy! And it's gonna live at his apartment and I can go see it whenever I want to and feed it and hold it, and it'll be really mine!' Holly was jigging in her seat, her face one huge beam of excitement.

Struck dumb, Stella could only listen as Mac spoke.

'That's a nice thing for your Uncle Flack to offer, but I hope you didn't ask him to buy you a mouse?'

'No daddy! I didn't ask him, he said it all by himself,' Holly insisted.

Mac glanced at Stella, who with a growing suspicion in her mind, questioned her daughter.

'But why?'

''Cause we were talking about mice.' Tiring of the explanations, Holly clattered her spoon into her dish and began to climb down from her chair. Mac told her to wait to be excused and reluctantly she half wriggled back into her seat, keeping one foot on the ground.

'Why were you talking about mice, baby?' Stella asked with a sinking feeling.

''Cause I like mice.' Holly shrugged.

'Did you tell Uncle Flack about the mouse from the cathedral?' Mac asked, and Stella's shoulders slumped as Holly told them that yes, she had; she had told Flack about taking the mouse home, and then taking him back to the cathedral, and talking to Monseigneur Michael, and how _he_ had talked to her, and to mommy and daddy…

'She told him everything,' Stella said despondently, a couple of hours later as she and Mac sat on the couch. ' _Everything_.'

'She certainly did.'

Foreseeing Missing Mouse files, mouse traps, mouse food and other rodent-related paraphernalia appearing everywhere, Stella looked at Mac dejectedly. 'We're never going to hear the end of this, are we?'

'He'll get tired of it. Eventually,' Mac said, his expression resigned. 'Just as soon as Holly finds the next heap of trouble to get into.'

Stella dropped her head into her hands and groaned.

 _The end_

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! Do leave me a review - I love to know what you think. Another story coming soon! Many thanks, Lily x**


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